The Abandoned Cottage
by SecretFruits
Summary: Charity Burbage wasn't a hero. She wasn't brilliant. She didn't want to be a Healer, or an Auror, or the Minister. She was a woman with a family. And all she'd ever wanted was to love them.


Written For:

Hogwarts Houses Competition:

\- House: Gryffindor

\- Category: Short Story

\- Prompt: Charity Burbage

\- Word Count: 2462

Hogwarts Challenges and Assignments:

\- Fruits

\- Gryffindor

\- History of Muggles: Write About a House Fire

* * *

"It's _beautiful_ , Caradoc."

He pulled her closer. She smelled lime and Butterbeer lingering on his robes. Inhaling, she stroked his hair.

"Not as beautiful as you." She could feel his breath on her cheek. " _Charity_."

They kissed. Somewhere in the distance, children were laughing.

She could _almost_ forget Voldemort.

Almost. They broke apart. Caradoc was smiling fondly. His robes were just slightly dusty, slightly worn. His beard was small and brown, like his eyes. Charity stared into them. So warm. _Kind._

And then it was over. They exchanged one more kiss – a peck, this time – before Caradoc headed towards Hogsmeade. "My lady." He bowed. "The bar awaits."

Charity looked at the cottage. The shutters needed repair. The paint job was messy. The door creaked as she pulled it closed.

But in the distance, Hogwarts was shrouded by mountains. The rooms were spacious and the fireplace filled the house. The grounds were large enough for a garden. Maybe they could grow food for the Hog's Head here. Caradoc would like that.

She imagined it for a moment. He would leave in the morning. Not to carry messages or to hand off codes in the bathroom or shelter children in the attic, but to talk and mix drinks. To give sixteen year-olds advice on dating and console them after OWLs. She would care for the children - three maybe - all morning, talking about Babbity Rabbity and painting flying trains. They would join Caradoc for a late lunch. Maybe they could surprise him with a bundle of carrots, with tomatoes so ripe they fell from the vine. He would laugh and pick up the children, spoil them with slabs from Honeydukes. She would see Marlene for tea. Of course, Marlene would be busy, what with a fancy Healing career, but she'd make time for her godchildren.

Sighing, Charity flicked her wand to lock the door, then shoved it in her robe pocket and Apparated away.

* * *

They went without a break until three in the afternoon. Marlene wanted to work straight to dinner. But her blue Healer's robes were stained, her Hufflepuff scarf was coming undone, and some potion had matted her black hair. The air around her was full of floating instruments and capped vials. Charity was afraid they would spill.

"You can't perform if you don't _rest_ , Marlene. There are dark circles around your eyes."

Marlene shrugged, letting Charity drag her into the hall. They nearly walked into Head Healer Edgar Bones, who was levitating five stretchers at once. The Welcome Witch's voice hummed over Marlene's receiver, "I'm sorry Mr. Dawlish, but with the war, the waiting time for non-fatal accidents…"

They had reached the cafe. Swishing her wand, Marlene conjured a table. "You should see the hours _Bones_ is pulling." She summoned two croissants and sat down. "I don't want to let him down. There's a _war_ going on. I have to do my part."

"Do you think _I_ don't know that?" Charity tried to keep the hurt from her voice. The fact was, she _wasn't_ part of the Order. She wasn't pulling Marlene's hours. She didn't have anything close to the NEWTs for a Healer. In peacetime, she suspected even Healer's Assistant would have been out of reach.

Marlene blanched and spat out her croissant. "Charity, I'm so sorry. I – that's not what I meant." She gestured wildly. "I could not get through a _day_ of this without you. And I know you hate this."

"It's okay, Marlene. You hate it too."

"Not the way you do." At Charity's scowl, she clarified, "I _want_ to be a Healer, Charity. I hate the war. But brewing Healing Draughts and mending bones - I _love_ that. But this isn't anything close to what _you_ want."

Charity thought of the little house and her imaginary garden and children and changed the subject. "Do you think I should join up?"

"Honestly?" Marlene leaned across the table. Charity had to strain to hear her. " _That_ I hate. I wish I'd never joined."

Biting her lip, Charity pondered this. "But would anything be different for you? Dumbledore mostly has you Healing, right?"

Marlene nodded. "I'd probably work _more_ if I wasn't on-call for the Order. It's not that. It's the _knowing._ Knowing who he's targeting, who he's killing. Being friends with everyone about to die at any second." She paused to chew, still barely whispering. "I wouldn't want that for anyone. Not for you."

Charity laughed bitterly, then lowered her voice to Marlene's level. "My Mum's dead. My Dad's fled. My fiance and my best friend…"

She didn't need to finish the sentence. Instead, she took Marlene's hand. "Come over to the house sometime. Before it all goes up in flames."

But she knew that it was pointless. It had gone up in flames long ago.

* * *

In early summer, their workload decreased. Edgar Bones claimed they were getting faster. Then Marlene told her in the strictest confidence that the Order had recruited five new members. Fresh graduates.

She didn't say who, and Charity didn't ask. When she heard Auror Trainee Lily Evans ordering a Flaming Phoenix at the Hog's Head, she tried to forget everything she knew about her and her friends.

Charity and Caradoc conjured a white fence for the garden (it took several tries - neither had ever been great at Transfiguration). Professor Sprout gifted black and yellow stakes, enchanted to grab hold of sagging stems and to grow with the shoots. Marlene charmed the fence to match. Aberforth sent over seeds, claiming they were trash. By summer's end the garden was in full bloom.

Then the workload picked up until they were more busy than ever. One windy day in September, Charity came home exhausted. She was always exhausted - but she'd slept badly the night before, plagued with nightmares about corpses looking like Marlene, or Caradoc, or her father.

She fell over as she Apparated onto the doorstep. Caradoc opened the door, catching her.

" _Years_ out of Hogwarts and I still do that!"

Caradoc kissed her forehead. Her blonde hairs clung to her face, sticky with sweat. But he didn't seem to care, lifting her into the house. "I have a surprise for you."

Out back, there was a covered porch. She stepped onto it, and her mouth fell open. A circular table surrounded a bluebell fire. Tiny bluebell jars covered the ceiling like stars. Couches were pressed against the cottage wall.

"The Order helped me with it this morning, after warding the house. I thought maybe, after the war…"

* * *

Charity would spend every evening on that porch. Even if it was only five stolen minutes before stumbling to bed, she'd sit, warmed by the flames, and think about _after the war._

She'd read her father's letters, begging his daughter to come join him in Barbados, and think how _after the war_ she'd show him the cottage.

She'd think of Marlene McKinnon and Edgar Bones, worn and relentless, and think how _after the war_ they'd have tea here.

She'd think of the Hog's Head, and think how _after the war_ she could meet the whole Order, every accursed person who had ever whispered to Caradoc as he wiped glasses.

 _Caradoc._ Mostly she would think of him. _After the war,_ he'd come home before midnight. They would get married. Maybe here in this very cottage. She could finally meet his Muggle parents. They could have children.

* * *

One day she woke up coughing. She and Caradoc had neither the means nor talent to brew a PepperUp Potion, so she floo'ed Marlene. She received copious amounts of toast, enough potion for a lifetime, and an order from Edgar to take the day off. That last one she fought. But by the fifth time she had coughed toast over herself she had accepted it.

She spent all day flipping through _Flying with the Cannons_ and catching up on mail. Her father had sent yet another plea for her and Caradoc to "leave that accursed war."

By mid-afternoon, she was feeling much better. She took a quick walk in the garden - it was a hot summer's day.

Out of the corner of her eye, the fireplace flickered. A familiar witch stepped through. But instead of Healer's robes, she wore plain black ones. She'd traded her normal Hufflepuff scarf for a Ravenclaw one.

"Marlene?" Charity headed inside, smiling. "What are you doing here?"

"I took the day off when you did. Came to check on you." She beamed around the cottage, dusting ash from her arms. "I'm so happy see your place again!"

Charity hugged her. "I'm much, much better. Why don't you sit in the garden? I'll make you a spot of tea."

But her friend's face fell. "I - I've actually got to run, Charity." She stuck her hands in her pockets, looking conflicted. "I just wanted to see you first."

A horrible thought occurred to Charity. "What's that in your pocket, Marlene?" She reached towards her friend, prying the object out of her hand. "A Foe Glass? I thought -"

"I carry them around all the time now; you should too. I have an extra Sneakoscope." She placed it in Charity's hand. "Owl Dumbledore for a -"

" _Marlene."_ Charity pocketed the Sneakoscope. "I thought you mostly healed for the Order. You're going to the Hog's Head, aren't you?"

She nodded. "For Merlin's _sake,_ keep your voice down. I've been doing a lot more than Healing for months now. You need to _stay here_ , Charity. Nobody knows you or Caradoc are involved, and if something happens the wards should hold long enough -"

Charity cupped her hand over Marlene's mouth. "You're my _best friend."_

* * *

Disillusioned, holding a Sneakoscope, and several feet behind Marlene, Charity entered the pub. Under Caradoc's hand, the pub hadn't become _pretty,_ but it was at least _clean._ A mummy and hag sat chatting in the corner.

Aberforth grunted at Marlene. "Whad'ya wan'?"

"Just a butterbeer." Marlene tossed a few sickles on the table. "Make that two. My kids have been driving me to Morgana's hell."

"Children do that." The hag stood up. "I have to use the bathroom."

Then something _BANGED_ outside. The Sneakoscope shrieked. The hag cast a shield as she ran. A chair flew, exploding in the air.

They came. Five of them, with black cloaks and black hoods and wands which shot out red streaks faster than Charity could blink. She stood, petrified.

"OUT! SCUM!" Aberforth shook his fist at Marlene and the first Death Eater, who Charity now recognized as Dolohov. "OUT of my pub! Take it _outside._ Causing a scene -"

" _Silencio,_ old man." Dolohov laughed. "We've heard _things_ about your assistant. And _this_ pretty little Mudblood" - he indicated Marlene - "we've heard _plenty_ about her too."

Charity had never Stunned anything before. Expecting to die, she screamed, "STUPEFY" and Dolohov crumpled. Immediately two other Death Eater's pointed wands at her. But Marlene was faster. She Stunned one and the mummy kicked the other. There was more popping outside. Charity screamed as another Death Eater entered, then another…

And then the hag grabbed her and she felt a familiar nausea as she reappeared in Godric's Hollow. The hag - Lily Potter, Charity realized - was holding four sleeping children, magically tied together. "JAMES!"

James Potter appeared from nowhere, grabbing the children. "Trouble, Lily?"

She nodded. "Stay with Harry." Then with another pop she vanished.

James handed her a boot. "I'm sorry, but no time." He gave her the hand of the oldest child, then vanished. But before Charity could open her mouth, she felt a tug.

* * *

The Portkey took her to Wizarding Greece, where she was immediately Stunned. They later treated her kindly, but told her nothing.

From then, it was letters. Albus Dumbledore wrote first. Everyone had survived, but they were going into hiding. They had been trying to whisk Squib children to safety but had been betrayed. Charity's help had been essential. Caradoc was safe, as was Marlene. He suggested she accept the protection of Wizarding Greece and that her father do the same.

Then Albus Dumbledore wrote again. Marlene McKinnon was dead. Charity got the _Prophet_ a day later. _Scribbs-McKinnon, Muggleborn witch..._

Some mourned Marlene, the Muggleborn. Some mourned Marlene, Head Girl, Healer, Order member. Charity mourned Marlene, her best friend.

Her father tried to cheer her up. They - always accompanied by at least one Auror - toured the country.

Then Millicent Bagnold herself wrote. Caradoc had been missing for a month. They had found no body. Oh, but Caradoc had been awarded the Order of Merlin.

This time, Charity didn't grieve. She was numb. _Caradoc_ and _dead_ just did not fit together in her mind. Not the beautiful, kind man who laughed with her in the garden and talked about children.

She was numb when Albus Dumbledore informed her that the war was over. She was numb when Millicent Bagnold informed her that the last of the Death Eaters had been tried and it was safe to return.

* * *

She handed her wand to her father and taught in a Muggle schoolhouse in the Greek countryside. Her father cooked and cleaned and tended a garden. The very thought of gardening made Charity sick. _Magic_ made her sick.

Her father died in a house fire. By her thirtieth birthday, he was an old man. Conjuring bluebell flames wasn't something he could do easily.

Only the living room burned.

* * *

He'd heard she taught Muggles, Dumbledore said. He was looking for a Muggle Studies Professor.

Charity took her wand, a stack of unopened letters from Caradoc's parents, the newspaper clippings of Marlene and Caradoc, her Sneakoscope, and her father's ashes. She had nothing else.

* * *

For years, she lived at Hogwarts. Then one day she walked beyond the grounds, to an abandoned cottage just outside Hogsmeade.

But it _wasn't_ abandoned. The garden was well-maintained. The bluebell flames still flickered. Inside, a man with a bushy brown beard sat by a huge hearth. Two small boys, spitting images of the man, laughed and chased an elderly couple.

An older girl, with Charity's blonde hair and blue eyes, was talking to a dark-haired woman. The woman wore blue Healer's robes and the girl black Hogwarts ones. They had matching Hufflepuff scarves.

A rough hand grabbed her. Somewhere in the distance, someone yelled, " _Crucio_ ". Charity wasn't aware of herself screaming.

The older girl was making her tea. "Where have you been, Mum? We looked everywhere!"

Caradoc, catching her eye, kissed her. Marlene hugged her. The boys giggled and tossed their dinosaur. Caradoc picked them up. "No, no, boys. Is that any way to greet your Mum?"

Around her, something was hot. Yellow and orange flames were filling the house. But Charity didn't mind. It had all burned a long time ago.


End file.
